Author's note: This subplot is coming to a head, so again, trigger warning for violence.

 

There was a lot of buzz in the air about the latest killing. They found Katerina haphazardly stuffed under a bed at the Magnolia with her gut slashed open.

 

 

The cops said they had collected physical evidence. They were hoping to get a DNA match. Evidence suggested she had fucked her killer before he killed her.

 

 

But, I mean, she was a whore.

 

 

They were probably going to find semen from any number of men inside her.

 

 

One thing for certain, though: she saw her killer before he did it.

 

 

I got an email from Devon Douglas, the soccer player I was supposed to profile before I got pulled.

 

Yo Connor!

 

Life is even crazier now that the season has started! I got injured making a great play in a preseason game.

 

 

And when I got back to the dorm, there was a small party going on, and this one girl seemed to have her eye on me.

 

 

She said she had been at the game and was already a fan! Within minutes, we were upstairs, and she was going down on me!

 

 

I learned later she was a local pro that some booster had paid to give me a good time as a form of thanks for my performance.

 

 

I think I love being the big man on campus!

 

D.

 

So I had to break it to him that I was yanked from his story.

 

Devon-

 

My editor pulled me for something else. A new writer named Brooke Larimar will be doing your profile.

 

 

Don't worry! I met with her to share notes. She's a pro. And she's exactly what you need.

 

 

I like to live in the mud, but she wants to make a name for herself by making a name for someone else. I think that's going to be you. Anyway, I highly recommend her skills.

 

 

And don't worry, I didn't share any of the off-record background stuff with her. Secrets are safe with me.

 

 

After a few weeks, Devon emailed me again.

 

Connor

 

I heard from this Brooke you told me about. She seems solid. But I'm not going to confide in her the same things I confided in you. BTW, I moved out of housing already, and into an off-campus spot with a friend. A female friend. Shiv is upset about it.

 

 

She's worried that there might be something going on. I told her she doesn't need to worry.

 

 

But honestly, she does.

 

 

This girl is a freak!

 

 

I came home from practice, and she was half-naked and just said, "D, you look like you could use a good fuck."

 

 

And we got right into it.

 

 

And she's actually the perfect roommate for me. She loves working out, so we can go to the gym together.

 

 

Although, I think she's got some shady business going on with a drug dealer from Newcrest.

 

 

And she is just now finishing her senior year, but even though she spends all day smoking weed and goofing off, she seems assured of a spot at Britechester. Seems she has some arrangement with some important guy in the admissions office.

 

 

But, hey, she's a willing fuck whenever I get home horny, so I can't complain.

 

 

My response to this email was mostly "Congrats, man, I know what it's like to be waist deep in fine pussy, and I'm happy for you," but it was also, "Oh, by the way, maybe you could put me in touch with your roommate? I think she might be able to help me with another story I'm working on."

 

I mean, important man in the Britechester admissions office? Come on. This is too easy.

 

 

So Devon put me in touch, and when I had the chance, I swung over there to talk to her.

 

 

A lot of it was friendly stuff at first, about Devon and other college things.

 

 

But then I brought up Bertie.

 

 

She clammed up.

 

 

I tried to press her.

 

 

But she was having none of it.

 

 

I decided not to burn this bridge, and let it go. I'd come back to it again in the future.

 

I also ran into this military intelligence chick. Maggie Justus she was called. Hard to believe, honestly. That name was as unrealistic as Rock Hardin.

 

 

She was asking questions about the whores who were murdered.

 

 

I didn't know why she wanted to talk to me about this.

 

 

But I figured it out when she mentioned Pedro.

 

 

She wasn't investigating the whores. She was investigating Pedro.

 

 

I told her I didn't have anything, and curtly said goodbye. Got home to find another short email from Devon.

 

We won the conference invitational today, you won't believe what my booster friend bought me!

 

 

Jealous, I closed my email program, and browsed the news. Breaking news from Windenburg, and as soon as I opened it, I knew it was trouble. Well-known High Society Figure Gunned Down At Home.

 

 

What the author of the Windenburg Zeitung article didn't know, but I did, was that this was Pedro's girl. Not his whore. His girl.